


Putting on a Strong Face

by Call_Me_Your_Monster



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Hidden Depths, Hidden pain, Hurt No Comfort, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:35:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26859826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Call_Me_Your_Monster/pseuds/Call_Me_Your_Monster
Summary: Mammon has kept up his careful composure for so many Millenia, but once you arrive in the Devildom, his world turns upside down and the careful façade he has been keeping up crumbles as greed gets the better of him. Because there is nothing he wants more than you, even if it hurts him.
Relationships: Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	Putting on a Strong Face

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up today feeling really inspired to write some angst and this happened...  
> PLEASE ENJOY THE ANGST WITH ME  
> I apologize for the shortness, it was originally a twitter thread.

Every day Mammon tries out his smile in the mirror. It is important, he tells himself as he allows the customary lazy grin to take over his face, to make sure that all smiles are entirely and completely convincing, and yet not overpowering. Modeling teaches you a lot about making sure that no one sees anything but what you want them to see. And what you want people to see is the best of you, always. Or at least what they think is the best. 

Staring into the reflection of his own eyes in the mirror, he sighs and then closes them, trying desperately to ignore the slight twinges of pain that radiate like a headache behind his eyes, a direct consequence of this careful shutting down of himself that he has worked on daily for millennia now. He wills himself not to let go, and opens his eyes again, the lazy smile not having lost its place. Satisfied with the expression for today, he takes a deep breath and heads out of his room, the only real safe place for him to be anything but what everyone else sees him as, and heads down to breakfast. 

Sidling into the room, his eyes skate over the seats, most taken, though one or two are empty, Lucifer having already departed for student council business and Belphie not having arrived yet. His practiced smile falters when it skates over you, seated with a sleepy, yet happy look on your face as you simultaneously dodge Beel’s attempts to steal your food while listening as Asmodeus chatters away to you happily. 

Giggling and swatting away Asmo’s hand good naturedly, you look up and, seeing him, offer a genuine smile and a wave his way. He swallows as an almost euphoric feeling rush of possessive, needy, wanting, desiring, /greed/ flows though him at the look from you, and he fights off the urge to grab you, take you away and keep you all to himself, the action of resistance making the demonic urge claw at his brain, euphoria turning to a searing pain down his spine. Rather than wincing or showing the pain, he offers instead a smile and a wave back of his own before making his way over to Asmo and trying to weasel his way into the seat next to you instead, much to the avatar of Lust’s chagrin.

Mammon usually prides himself on his self control. On his ability to keep himself and his feelings in check. On his ability to keep his false smile up and available for all to see. But then you came around, and his whole world went sideways. Millennia of carefully keeping himself in check and making sure that he didn’t lose himself to his desires so that he could be there to make sure his brothers didn’t lose themselves started to crumble around him after your arrival. And the worst part was... he liked it. 

He wanted you and you alone. He wanted to keep you, all for himself, was greedy for each laugh and smile and word you tossed his way, waiting on them like a dog waiting for it’s master to praise it. When he was around you, all he felt was the overwhelming desire to have more and more of you, and, for the first time in his second life, he felt like maybe, possibly, he was allowed to indulge. 

And you let him, with smiles and small words of praise and affirmation and gestures, you made him feel almost worthy again. He lived for the small euphoria of the feeling you gave him, even if tamping down the urge to possess you as his own entirely caused him almost as much pain in the end. 

Having frustrated Asmo out of his seat, he grinned at you and you, kind and good as you were, just giggled and offered him a soft pat on the head as he dragged some food out of Beel’s grasp so he could eat before it was time to leave, and he again sucked in a rush of breath, the small rush of good filling him again as he, for the moment, had you all to himself. 

After a while, it was time to leave, and he stood, waiting for you to do the same. Smiling, you rose and slipped your hand into his, and a blush rose on his cheeks. He laced his fingers with yours and he indulged, greedy, needing your attention, sinking into the momentary satisfaction as you walked hand in hand away toward your classes.

He would deal with the pain later, aches shooting through his body like white hot fire in his veins as he lies in his bed alone at night, but for now, for you, he could endure, because in the end, he’d give up anything for you, even if it meant slowly breaking himself down in the process.

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to screech at me about how sad this made you on Twitter @HoneyMammoney.


End file.
